The Serpent Sea - By Martha Wells Page 0,86

my other guests have arrived.”

The other guests turned out to be a large group of wealthy local groundlings and their servants and hangers-on. The big chamber rapidly became well-occupied.

They seemed to be in a contest to outdo each other with the richness of their clothes. There were silks in every color, sheer gauzes, black and gold brocades. There were also some traders, all looking much more prosperous than the ones who had come to sell trinkets today. There was apparently nothing else to do in this city in the evening except go to parties in the big towers or drug yourself unconscious in the wine and smoke bars.

Servants put out more food and drink, but people didn’t sit to eat. Instead, they walked around to mingle and talk. Moon was able to fade into the background as the crowd grew, watching and being watched in turn.

There didn’t seem to be much to discover. The conversations Ardan had were all brief, all apparently casual. The point of all this seemed to be showing his wealth off to the other groundlings. At the moment Ardan stood with a richly dressed old man, surrounded by a small audience of lower-ranking groundlings. Ardan was at ease, as usual, but the old man simmered with anger.

“Trader Niran.”

Moon glanced around even before he remembered that was supposed to be him, which was why he had taken the name of someone he knew. It was Bialin, who motioned urgently for him to follow. “The Magister would like to speak with you.”

“Who’s that with him?” Moon asked.

Bialin pressed his lips together in dissatisfaction at Moon’s lack of instant obedience, but answered, “Lethen, another magister.”

Moon followed Bialin over to the group. Unlike Ardan, Lethen was ruinously old. The pearly surface of his skull was dulled and worn, disturbingly like raw bone. Deep lines were etched around his mouth and eyes, and his blue skin had an unhealthy, pale tinge. He was dressed in blue and gold brocade, and leaned on an ornate ivory cane. He had blue gems somehow mounted in the age-yellowed base of his skull cap. Judging by his pinched expression, the process had been painful.

As Moon and Bialin arrived, Ardan said to Lethen, “Trader Niran has brought me word of another site of interest.” He nodded to Moon. “Show him the bracelet, if you would.”

Moon pulled the cuff of his shirt up and held out his arm. The red gold gleamed on the entwined serpentine forms.

Lethen leaned in to look and his hands tightened on his cane. His nails were like gray horn against his lined blue skin. He said, tightly, “I see.”

There was an undercurrent here, a strong one. Lethen wants Raksuran treasure? Or he knows about the seeds and wants one? Moon wondered, and watched Lethen regard Ardan with a bitterness bordering on hate. Ardan definitely had some hold over him. Just to stir the pot a little, Moon said, “Do you want me to tell him what I found in the ruin?”

Ardan flicked him a look, part surprise and part amusement. “Not necessary.” He gave Moon an ironic nod. “You may go.”

Tugging his sleeve down, Moon wandered away, circled the nearest statue-pillar, and stopped just within earshot. He was mildly surprised to find Karsis already there, eavesdropping. She glared at him, not very pleased to be caught.

Sounding as if it was a wonderful joke, Ardan was saying to Lethen, “So, will you mount your own expedition to the coast?”

Lethen snapped, “I want you to allow another trading clan access to our harbor.”

“Your wants are immaterial.” Ardan was clearly bored with the change of subject. “There’s no need.”

“There is need. My artisans can’t produce anything when they can’t get raw materials.”

The boredom was turning into annoyance. “I’ll consider it.”

“There’s no need to keep this stranglehold—” Ardan was already walking away, stubbornly pursued by Lethen.

Karsis let out a frustrated breath. “Well, that was pointless.” She flicked a grim glance at Moon. “Eavesdropping makes me feel like I’m at least trying to do something.”

“Ardan controls the traders?” Enad had said something about trade rights, that things would be better if the magisters gave them to more traders.

“Most of them. He controls their ability to find the island,” Karsis corrected, and stepped out to watch Ardan move away. Moon thought she was being far too obvious about it. She must not do much hunting on her people’s isolated plateau. “The leviathan moves at random. The traders all have magical tokens that allow them to find it again.

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